


Sleep No More

by weezly14



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:18:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weezly14/pseuds/weezly14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Every time he closes his eyes he loses her but he’s not sure how much longer he can do this."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep No More

            He pours himself another cup of coffee and forces his eyes to stay open. It’s a touch too strong, this brew, but he’s too tired to care. He can’t sleep. If he could mainline caffeine he would. Well. He could. But he shouldn’t. Too much a shock to the system, even his superior Time Lord one.

            Rose is sleeping which is just as well. She’d notice the bags under his eyes. She’d grow concerned, tell him to go to bed. But he can’t.

            He closes his eyes and he watches it all disappear.

            He closes his eyes and he loses her.

            He downs the coffee like a shot and heads to the console room to tinker.

            He doesn’t sleep.

\---

            He meets Rose in the kitchen. She’s got that just woke up look to her. Messy hair, rumpled pajamas. She’s watching the coffee pot as it brews and the sight warms him.

            She turns to look at him and smiles that slow, lazy smile he only ever sees when she’s just woken up, before she’s had coffee. She looks well rested, if not fully awake yet. Happy. He loves her like this.

            “Morning,” she says.

            “Morning.”

            He comes up beside her and puts a hand on her lower back as he reaches for the coffee mugs. He doesn’t need to touch her but he likes to remind himself that she’s real, sometimes. It steadies him to feel her, solid and tangible beneath his hand. Especially now. She doesn’t seem to mind.

            She smiles at him as he hands her her mug (it’s not actually hers, it’s been in the TARDIS for years but she’s taken to using it so it is now and will forever be her mug) and he grins in return. He always puts the mugs on the top shelf, and she could reach if she wanted to but he likes to get them and she indulges him this. She pours his coffee first and then hers and his hand is still on the small of her back and he wonders, not for the first time, what her skin would feel like.

            “Did you sleep well?” he asks. She nods.

            “You sleep last night?”

            “No. Time Lords don’t need sleep,” he lies. She rolls her eyes.

            “Yeah, okay.”

            She moves away from him and he lets his hand fall and he wants to grab her and pull her close, just hold her for a moment. He dozed off for a few moments during the night and the nightmares were back and it’s left him unsure and unsteady. He wants to hug her and remind himself that she’s here and that he hasn’t lost her. He wants to feel her breath on his neck and her heartbeat against his chest. He wants to sleep and not dream.

            It’s true that Time Lords don’t require as much sleep as humans, but they still need some. He’s been due for a good long nap for days.

            “Doctor?”

            Rose is looking at him and he realizes he’s been zoning out.

            “You all right?”

            “Yeah, I’m fine.”

            “Want some toast?”

            “Yes, please.”

            She puts a piece on a plate for him and he moves around her to grab the jam, letting his fingers ghost across her back. He’s not usually this touchy and he hopes she doesn’t ask about it.

            They settle across from each other at the table. Rose drinks her coffee and eats her toast and mostly he watches her, sipping from his own cup when he remembers.

            “You gonna eat that?”

            He takes a bite of his toast and grins at her. She rolls her eyes at him again.

            He loves these quiet moments when they just _are_. Not talking, just existing in the same space. These moments of simple domesticity, where he lets himself wonder what it would be like to live in a house with carpets and a mortgage and her, to wake up beside her every day, kiss her whenever he felt like it, have jam on toast with her on Saturday mornings. Moments like this he lets himself wonder, lets himself pretend that he is hers and she is his and that this thing between them is more than just friendship. Moments like this he wants—forever.

            He finishes his toast and clears her plate along with his. She’s picked up the book he left on the table, something from the twenty-third century. She’s still drinking her coffee and he pours himself another cup. He’s tired. He wants to curl up somewhere and close his eyes for a little while, but he remembers the nightmares and he can’t. Instead he watches her.

            “Can we just stay in today?” she asks him, and it feels like carpets and a mortgage and _together_ his hearts swell.

            “Of course.”

            She gets up and puts her cup in the sink. She stops and looks at him and she’s so very close and this whole morning has felt like everything he’s always told himself he never wanted but—

            She brushes the hair at his forehead and trails her hand down his face and he nearly closes his eyes as he leans into her touch.

            “You should sleep, Doctor. You look exhausted.”

            “I’m fine.”

            She doesn’t believe him, he can tell, but she doesn’t press the issue. Just offers him a small smile before walking away.

            Every time he closes his eyes he loses her but he’s not sure how much longer he can do this.

\---

            He tinkers. He reorganizes the books in his room. He alphabetizes the DVD collection in the library. He washes all the dishes.

            Sometimes Rose sits with him. Watches him tinker, book in hand. She forces him to eat lunch, and after dinner she drags him to watch a movie with her.

            She knows something is wrong. He can feel her stare, but he ignores it. He’s a Time Lord, and he’s acting like a child, afraid of the monsters under the bed, only they aren’t monsters, they’re dreams. And they’re not about just anything. Mostly they involve her. And they reveal too much—all the things he hasn’t said, can’t ever say. No, he knows she knows something is wrong, but if she isn’t asking he isn’t answering.

            He follows her to the library for a movie anyway and when she curls up in his side he puts his arm around her, relishing their closeness. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

            He doesn’t even notice himself start to drift off.

\---

            “Doctor? Doctor? _Doctor_ —”

            He jerks and twists and feels warm all over and _suffocating_ and _Rose—_

            “Rose? Ro—”

            “Shh, I’m here, okay? I’m right here.”

            Everything comes into focus and she’s there, smoothing his hair down, smiling, all reassuring.

            “I’m right here.”

            “I—”

            “You fell asleep,” she explains.

            That explains why he’s sprawled on the couch. She’s currently kneeling beside him, one hand on his chest, the other on the side of his face. He brings his hand up to meet hers, to keep it there. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. Tries to get his breathing under control. He feels a wetness on his face and he realizes they’re tears. He lets out a shuddery breath and opens his eyes, and the look on Rose’s face is almost too much.

            “I’m sorry,” he says, sitting up, removing himself from her when all he wants is to wrap himself around her. “I—”

            “Doctor—”

            She moves next to him on the couch and he inches away from her and doesn’t look to see her reaction.

            “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

            “Don’t shut down, look at me. _Doctor._ ”

            She reaches up to cup his cheek and wipes at the tears on his face with her thumb. He can’t do this.

            “What’s going on?”

            He tries to speak but the words won’t come out. He wants to get as far away from her as possible and he wants to hold onto her and never let go. He can’t tell which impulse will win out.

            “I—I’ve been having nightmares,” he mutters finally. He doesn’t meet her gaze.

            “How long?”

            “The Wire.”

            He hears her sharp intake of breath.

            “ _Doctor._ ”

            “I haven’t been sleeping much lately,” he confesses. She pulls him to her and he almost sighs in relief, arms wrapping around her and pushing them even closer.

            “What are they about?” she asks softly. He burrows his face into her neck and doesn’t answer. She rubs circles on his back and he focuses on her heartbeat.

            “I lose you,” he says, so quiet he’s not even sure she ears him. “I lose you and I can’t get you back. Just like—it all burns, and I lose everything, everyone I—”

            He closes his eyes against the onslaught of memories but that only makes it worse and he feels his breath get shallow again and Rose is rubbing his back and rocking him back and forth.

            “Shh. It’s all right, you’re all right. I’m here, and you’re not losing me, okay? You’re not gonna lose me.”

            “But I did,” he whispers. “I—it got you and I—”

            “And you got me back. You’re always gonna get me back, Doctor. Stuck with me, remember?”

            He squeezes her tighter and she squeezes him right back.

            “You’re not gonna lose me,” she repeats. He feels himself nod. She kisses his temple and he loves her more than he could possibly express, his hearts are pounding and he wants—

            She pulls away and he wants to protest, but then she’s standing and offering her hand.

            “Rose?”

            “Come on.”

            “What?” he asks even as he takes her hand.

            “You still need sleep.” He tenses and she stops and turns back to him. “I’m not gonna leave you, okay? But you’re exhausted and you need rest. I’ll stay with you.”

            “Rose—”

            He’s never felt so weak. He feels pathetic, letting her see him like this, but she just brushes his hair off his forehead and looks at him with eyes so full of tenderness he wants to look away.

            “Come on.”

            He follows her, lets her lead him to her room. He’s barely spent any time with her here, actually. Boundaries. She shuts the door behind him and goes to remove his tie. He almost stops her.

            “You can’t sleep in your suit,” she tells him by way of explanation. “I’m just gonna go change, all right?”

            He nods, and when she disappears into her en suite he peels off his jacket, oxford, and trousers, slipping out of his trainers as he does. He feels feverish and weak and he hates it, and he has half a mind to leave, grab his things and lock himself in his room for a week, but instead he sits on the edge of the bed and waits for Rose.

            She re-emerges wearing the same pajamas from this morning, and she grabs his hand again and pulls him into bed with her. She lies on her side facing him and he mirrors her position. She brings her hand up to his face again.

            “Sleep, Doctor.”

            “I don’t want to.”

            “I’m right here. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

            “Promise?” He sounds like a child, but she doesn’t laugh at him.

            “Promise.”

            He puts an arm around her and pulls her closer, and she rests her hand on his chest, between his hearts.

            He falls asleep.

\---

            He wakes up slowly. Rested, but groggy. Actually he feels better than he has in days, maybe even weeks. He’s on his stomach in a bed he doesn’t recognize. His arm is draped over something—someone. He opens his eyes and sees Rose. She smiles at him, softly.

            He remembers.

            It must show on his face because Rose grabs the hand resting in her side and laces their fingers before he can run away.

            “How are you feeling?” she asks quietly.

            He looks at their twined fingers.

            “Okay.”

            “Any more nightmares?”

            Surprisingly, no. He shakes his head, and she smiles again.

            “Good.”

            He averts his eyes.

            “Sorry, for—”

            “Don’t.”

            He looks up at her.

            “Don’t do that. Don’t act like it was nothing and don’t shut me out and don’t apologize.”

            He starts to apologize again but stops himself.

            “I care about you, okay? I’m here for you, if you just let me be.”

            He nods. She smiles at him again, and this time he smiles back.

            “I’m gonna go make coffee, okay?”

            “Okay.”

            She leaves and he flips over on his back. He wants every day to wake up with her. He’s wanted that for some time now. He lies there and thinks of all the things stopping him, all the fears and hang-ups and rules. He makes a decision. Gives himself another moment to collect himself before he follows her.

            She’s in the kitchen, watching the coffee brew. He comes up behind her, wraps his arms around her. She starts at first, then relaxes.

            “Hi,” she says. He lets his head fall to the crook of her neck. Breathes her in. “Doctor?”

            “I’m afraid of losing you,” he confesses.

            “I told you—”

            “I’m always afraid of it, but lately it’s gotten—it’s been worse.” He takes a deep breath, and he can _feel_ her listening. “I want—I want so much, with you, and I can’t—I’m afraid—I—” He stops, his hearts pounding. “I want to hold you like this and wake up next to you, I want lazy days where we just watch telly on the couch and have jam on toast. I never wanted a mortgage or carpets but I would—I want—all of it. With you.”

            She turns in his arms, slowly. He steps back an inch and lowers his eyes. Braces himself for rejection. She moves closer.

            “Doctor.”

            He looks at her.

            She kisses him.

            It only takes a second for him to respond. His eyes slide shut and his arms encircle her waist. He feels her hands in his hair and he pulls her closer. What started soft and sweet becomes desperate. He pours everything he’s feeling, everything he can’t say into this kiss. All of his fears, all of his hopes. He holds her tight and doesn’t want to let go, and she just holds on to him, responding and reassuring and real.

            They break apart for air and he rests his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed.

            “I love you,” she says. His eyes pop open. She smiles at him, a little unsure.

            “Yeah?” he asks, wide smile breaking out on his face.

            “Yeah,” she says, her own smile growing.

            He opens his mouth but the words get caught.

            “I know,” she says. He drops his eyes again but she doesn’t let him. “Hey. Don’t. It’s okay.”

            He kisses her again. This time it’s tender, like he’s trying to tell her the words he can’t say.

            “You’re not gonna lose me.”

            “Promise?”

            “Promise. I know you’ll find a way back, always.”

            “And if I can’t?”

            “Then I’ll find you.” She kisses him again. “I’m never gonna leave you.”

            He nods and pulls her in for a hug.

            “Thank you for chasing the nightmares away,” he says in her ear.

            “Always.”

            She pulls back, gives him a quick kiss, and then goes to grab the coffee mugs. He beats her to it and hands her her mug, smiling brightly. She grins and pours his, then hers, and she goes to put the toast in and he grabs the jam.

            When he kisses her again she tastes like coffee and he grins against her mouth.

            She drags him to watch a movie and curls into his side. He pulls her close and drapes a blanket over them, dropping a kiss at the top of her head. She turns to meet him for another kiss and then turns back to the movie.

            He falls asleep again but this time he doesn’t jerk awake from a nightmare. He wakes up on the couch, Rose sprawled out on top of him, and he smiles.

            He goes back to sleep.  

 


End file.
